


Degrees of Devotion

by Heartensoul



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartensoul/pseuds/Heartensoul
Summary: A collection of Conrad/Yuuri fic/lets written throughout the years. Warnings in each section where needed.
Relationships: Shibuya Yuuri/Conrart Weller
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	1. The Birth of a Promise

The Birth of a Promise  
Warnings: None

\---

The moment that it really sunk in that this…world...he had been sucked into (literally!) was not an amusement park, Yuuri felt his insides begin to fill with panic. Suddenly, the weight of this silly title, the _Maou_ , didn't feel so silly anymore; it felt damn heavy. 

He must have clutched the man's uniform jacket unconsciously in his worry, because suddenly the soldier--Conrad, that was his name--was peering over his back looking at Yuuri rather than watching the castle grow larger in their vision.

"Don't worry, Heika, I'll stay with you the whole time," he promised easily.

Yuuri grasped onto that promise without pause, for some reason quickly relieved that the weight would be shared.


	2. Strength

Strength  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Spoilers for eps 25-32; major character death

\---

He had thought that he was beginning to feel at home in this new world--everything that Shin Makoku presented to him as the Maou--but now that Conrad is gone, he feels he has lost hold of the ground and is spinning endlessly without gravity. Gwendal and the others have left him by the warm fire while they go about their work to give him time to digest things, but also because they cannot be bothered; They do not indulge him like Conrad does--did--and rightly so with the work they must do.

Staring at the flames because that is all he seems to be able to do, Yuuri wonders not for the first time what makes a strong king besides the obvious ideals of desire for peace and love for all people. Yuuri once believed that dedication would be enough, but he now realizes that a king is just an ordinary person--just a drop in the ocean--without someone to hold him up. Yuuri has always been an awful king, but Conrad has been beside him to teach him, to hold his hand.

But now even that hand, the only part of Conrad that remains, has been taken away from him.


	3. Four Finger Lengths

Four Finger Lengths  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: None

\---  
The space between them is four finger lengths. His pointer finger specifically, so he guesses that is about a foot. He’s figured that out over the past hour while the room grew darker and the line of Conrad’s body moved up and down with his breathing, but nothing else. Nothing has changed now, except he has a precise measurement for the distance that somehow seems important.

No shift, no settling, not even a sneeze in the dusty room. Conrad’s body is running along an invisible line that for some reason the soldier will not cross—not a toe, not a string from his evening shirt, not even a breath.

And it’s all his own fault, of course. When the innkeeper had said the only room available had a single bed, Conrad had been perfectly content with a chair as his sleeping arrangement for the night. It had been he, Yuuri, who had insisted that sleeping in a chair was ridiculous, that the bed was big enough for the both of them. And it is big enough. Conrad, and him, and a foot of space filled with…something.

He doesn’t understand. He has slept with Wolfram all the time. Wolfram, with his flailing limbs touching, smacking and harassing him in the dead of night. Conrad had to be a better bed partner than that, so that meant it should be a better night’s sleep. 

He doesn’t understand, but Conrad did and does, and now he at least knows a better night’s sleep doesn’t necessarily come in the form of a quiet bedmate like Conrad. It is…strange, and stifling, and something else he cannot put a name to. He’d ask Conrad if he could, but the question seems hours too old now.

Two hours passed and the foot—four finger lengths—has not grown or shrunk. It should have, he thinks, done something. He feels like they have moved closer at some point, in the way the sheets are tangled around both of them and the room seems to keep getting hotter even though the sun has gone down.

Dark eyes open again, taking in the darkness of the room, the broad shoulders of his silent bedmate and the space between them. Yup, still four finger lengths.

A touch on the shoulder couldn’t be so bad, right? Conrad has never seemed to mind before, this should not feel any different or be any different from anything else they have done together. It’s just sleeping, after all.

_Right, Conrad?_

Determined fingers cross, over the threshold of an invisible line--across four finger lengths--and into the unknown.


	4. The Birth of a Promise

The Death of Young Yuuri  
Rated: G  
Notes: This eventually became a flashback in my chaptered story "Shadows and Sheets", but this is the original one-shot.

\---

When Yuuri realizes, finally, that he is in love with his retainer, he panics. The familiar stirrings of affection that Young Yuuri held for Conrad--that awe of strength, the comfort of support--is set aflame. The new feelings settle into an older Yuuri like an alien being, not entirely unwelcome but awkward. This want of a man who has known him since before birth, the acceptance of him, flaws and all, takes some getting used to. But once the feeling does settle into him, and he accepts it as not fleeting, not merely a curiosity, but indeed the real thing, he is determined to move forward.

Their relationship, once so pure and platonic, alters quickly one evening when they are cleaning up some paperwork for the night. Yuuri’s four advisors had taken on days where they would assist the Maou with his work while the others carried on with their duties, and this night was Conrad’s. While the soldier works, Yuuri muses on Conrad’s behavior toward him, because he is still unsure. He thinks the feelings are returned; little by little Conrad has slipped into comfort with Yuuri, allowing him to see more of the man and less of the façade. But there is still no way of knowing for sure without action. 

He is thinking on how to figure that out when Conrad calls out to him, asking if he is ready to retire for the night. He hears the formal way that Conrad calls out to him-- _Your Majesty_ \--as though he were just some soldier, some insignificant person and not _Conrad_ , and it grates on his last nerve. He pushes the chair out with the back of his thighs while he arms propel him to his feet, and before he can think more on it he is walking around his desk and to where Conrad is standing, a pile of paperwork in his hands and a look of surprise across his face. The surprise intensifies when Yuuri wraps his arms around Conrad’s neck and places his mouth on Conrad’s. Two sets of open eyes stare at the other in wonder, wonder at what they are doing and that Yuuri does not need to stretch in any way to meet Conrad. The last of Young Yuuri grows silent and still.

“What do you see, Conrad?” Yuuri asks when they break away. His heart is lurching out of the confines of his chest, and he can feel tension in the muscle of Conrad’s arm that has nothing to do with the now fallen papers. He knows Conrad understands the question, and only one answer will be acceptable. No other answer will allow them to proceed.

“Yuuri,” Conrad sighs without pause, leaning forward to capture his lips again. And because there are no kings or past selves present, Yuuri responds without anymore hesitation.


	5. Interruption

Interruptions  
Rated: G

\---

Eventually situations must change, light dawning on even the most oblivious.

It takes Yuuri two earth decades to acknowledge he has lived in contentment because he has always held desire in the palm of his hand, warm and willing in the soft guise of protection. The years have broken down the subtle denial and paralyzing fear of rejection, allowing desire long-suppressed to unfurl itself from the remains and begin to bloom.

As he embraces it, he can feel the years in Conrad’s touch, the finely-tuned patience wearing down now that it has been freed of its duty. The ocean breaks through the sand dunes and finally reaches land.

\--- 

Early morning stirs him from contented slumber and he recalls why, years after Wolfram has gone, there is someone lying beside him. He waits, collecting his courage and thinking of how to shadow his response if Conrad is feeling unsettled with this--this…

Black eyes open and meet soft brown--eyes, hair--lose focus to take in face and form, as welcoming as the two cups of steaming coffee on the nightstand.

Yuuri takes comfort in the fact that Conrad doesn’t change even when Yuuri changes all the rules for them. He reflects on the absurdity of fear and the time it has taken to create this perfect moment before he allows it to wash over him completely.


	6. Paperweight

Paperweight  
Rating: G  
Warnings: angsty

\---

He watches from the window as Conrad mounts his horse with ease, his movements proving he is all too familiar with the action of going off to war. Yuuri had watched a memory years before--this very scene playing out with Conrad as the leader--and in his naiveté and innocence he had sworn there would never be a repeat.

But promises to oneself such as those were bound to be broken in the midst of a changing era, and so it was: Conrad was again stepping onto the battlefield while the Maou gazed on helplessly at his post by the window. His hand pressed to the glass, sorrow and regret reflected in the image of the failed king until it all falls way in a scattering of glittering glass.

The crown upon his head feels heavy, holding him down like a paperweight keeping a sheet from following freely the wind; their roles must continue on, unchanging.


	7. Hopelessness

Hopelessness  
Rating: G  
Any Warnings: Fluffy  
Theme/Prompt being used: Picture  
Notes: Dedicated for those of us that noticed and loved the fact that even though Gunter and Wolfram are pulling at Yuuri in colored dresses, Conrad's the one with the bouquet.

Added note about Yellow Tulips - Yellow Tulips have two meanings: 'A hopeless love that has no chance of reconciliation' and 'There is sunshine in your smile.' Tulips in any color are supposed to signify a gift from the perfect lover.

\---

Yuuri is tugging at his bowtie as he makes his way down the maze of hallways of his castle; the material of the tie keeps rubbing against his jaw and making him itchy. The temperature also seems to be getting warmer with each passing moment, and he puts the blame on the stupid white tux with seven million layers. It must certainly be the tux, and not the nervousness that is trying to curl around his stomach. Whose idea was this anyway? If it had been up to him, he would be getting married in his usual attire. However, the white tuxedo is a compromise; it placates both Cheri and his mother enough to dull the disappointment that he will not be wearing a dress. 

He turns the last corner and can see Gunter and Wolfram in the distance, both dressed in...well, dresses. And gloves. And garters. And Yuuri moves quickly not to be seen, shuffling down the last hallway to his desired destination. The display in the hallway shows him that some of the other males in his guard have not been so lucky in avoiding Cheri and his mother. Or perhaps they had volunteered, but he doesn't want to think about that. He just hopes that Gwendal is able to avoid wearing anything frilly, because he never wants to see that. Their voices are escalating as he takes each step, and he can hear something about escorting him down the aisle before he shuts them out completely. He really does not want to know. 

Shaking his head, he opens the door and enters, making sure to shut it firmly behind him. 

Conrad Weller is standing in front of the large bow window of the room, his crisp black suit molding to his body as well as his uniform usually does. In his hands is a large bouquet of yellow tulips, and he pauses to gaze at them thoughtfully as he turns his head from the window to the room's new occupant.

"I didn't know anybody would be carrying a bouquet," Yuuri grins, stepping over to Conrad's side of the room and sitting in the chair near the window. 

"You're the one wearing white," the other man retorts with a playful smile. "I thought the ritual is that the bride and groom aren't supposed to see each other before the wedding?"

Yuuri snorts. "Good thing there aren't any brides then." He adjusts himself in the seat, making sure not to wrinkle the long, annoying tails of his coat. "They're tulips, right?"

"Yes. I thought they might be nice on the altar rather than in someone's hands," Conrad continues, eyeing the flowers once again. He is quiet for a moment, weighing something in his mind. "Yellow tulips are supposed to symbolize a hopeless love, or so I've read."

He glances over at Yuuri with a knowing smile. Yuuri responds as expected, a newly-formed frown adorning his face. "Why would you want flowers that represent hopelessness?"

"Hopelessness has more than one meaning. I think it's a fitting symbol for our relationship, past and present."

Yuuri tilts his head to the side in consideration. "I suppose you're right." During his first years in Shin Makoku, Conrad was the support he most needed during that time of change. It was an innocent love he felt then, a far cry from having any romantic intentions attached. It was only later, when he became willing and able to be independent enough to support himself, that tendrils of romantic feelings could begin to entangle him.

Conrad places the flowers down on the sill, whatever heaviness on his mind forgotten, and he brings himself behind the chair Yuuri is sitting in. He leans over Yuuri, wrapping his arms around slim shoulders and dropping his chin into fine black hair.

"Careful, you'll wrinkle this ridiculous jacket, and then we'll never hear the end of it." 

"You're nervous." It is not a question.

The younger man makes a noise that is somewhere between a snort and a sigh. "You know I hate these things. I'm bound to trip on the rug or end up declaring a duel or something equally stupid."

"So why don't you cancel it?"

"Because everyone would try to kill me. And I want to make it official. And oh yeah, I love you, or something like that." He tilts his head back, meeting Conrad's gaze and matching the other man's smile. "I guess that makes me hopeless, right?"

"Most definitely."

And as quickly as that, Yuuri's unease is subsiding and he is, without a word of reassurance, reminded why this is so right.


	8. Scar Stories

Scar Stories  
Rating/Warnings: G, Fluff alert!  
Notes: I didn't name Yuuri and Conrad's daughter because I would have ended up looking at names all night instead of writing. And yes, she is both Yuuri and Conrad's biological daughter and no, it was not MPreg. If you want to spend hours listening to my long explanation of how this is possible, feel free to poke me. I'm warning you that you don't.

\---

Yuuri had never been a good story-teller: things like that were too closely related to books, and he had never felt the need to embellish or go into great detail when it came to many things.

Therefore, when Yuuri and Conrad's daughter became old enough to ask questions that sometimes required more than a simple answer, Conrad was often relied on to translate some of Yuuri's disconnected explanations into something all three of them could agree on. At the age of five, their young daughter became very intent on learning about her origins, and although it was much too complicated to explain how she came to be at that time (and later in life she would probably be horrified that she had been brought about with the help of one of Anissina's inventions, of all things,) they enjoyed sharing parts of their past with her and were glad that she seemed so interested.

The first subject of interest was Earth, the birthplace of her younger father. During these stories, both men told parts to their daughter, Conrad often explaining in greater detail to her something she didn't understand. Since she hadn't yet made a visit to Earth, it took some time to satisfy her interest in the subject.

The subject that followed after was the story of Yuuri and Wolfram's past engagement, a story that set the young girl into a plethora of faces that most often reflected disbelief. When the story concluded, she glanced at Yuuri for a long time before saying, "I don't think Uncle Wolfram could have handled you, Daddy."

Yuuri only huffed in response and told her it was time for bed, but Conrad's laughter rang through the halls of the castle for a long time that night.

Since the first two sets of questions had been focused on Yuuri, it didn't surprise Conrad that his daughter's next questions were about him. What did surprise him was the approach she took to learn about him, and Yuuri's surprising desire to take charge in responding to her questions. Over the span of a couple of days, a game between father and daughter was played. The young girl would eye her papa critically and point out a scar on Conrad's person. She would then ask her father, in a voice that reflected pure delight, how that particular scar had been created. Yuuri's response was always the same:

"I'll tell you all about it tonight when it's bedtime," he would say, his smile warm and loving. True to his word, the Maou halted all work each night and tucked in his daughter with a story of her papa's scar, a story that usually entailed a dragon or sorcerer or some other ridiculously untrue tale he had thought up earlier in the day. 

For the most part, Conrad kept his amusement of the exchange to himself. Their daughter would run out of visible scars eventually; the others were for Yuuri's eyes alone, those that were physical and otherwise. His only fear was that she might end up with an inflated opinion of him; however, that fear eased somewhat when she continued to have no problem telling him he told bad jokes.

When the time came that there was only one scar remaining, Conrad was surprised that it was the one most visible: the scar along his eyebrow.

"How about that scar, Daddy?" The five-year old asked, pointing toward Conrad's right brow.

Instead of his usual response, Yuuri shifted her in his lap so that she could see his face clearly. "That scar is very special, so I'll tell you the story now. And you have to promise that you'll never forget this once I tell you."

The little girl leaned closer, her father's tone causing her eyes to go wide in anticipation. "I promise."

Conrad expected another ridiculous story, but when Yuuri's face remained serious he couldn't help but lean in slightly to ensure he heard as well.

"That scar was created on the day that Papa proved to everyone that he's the greatest hero Shin Makoku has ever had."

Yuuri said no more than that, but it was enough. No matter how much Conrad protested in the hours following, their daughter knew that an important truth had been revealed to her.


End file.
